Regrets to Live By
by KellyKatt19
Summary: "But why? We- we're friends, but you don't like us? What did we do?" "Because, Kirchstein. You make my brother a liar." EreJeanMarco. Other squad pairings before we get there. Other inter-squad ships beside them. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

It all started, as most things concerning their friend group did, at a party thrown by Connie and Sasha, for no other reason than that they felt like it. Almost everybody was out in the backyard; Eren and Ymir were playing beer pong, and most of the crew was gathered around them, jeering and cheering in equal measure. As far as Jean Kirchstein knew, there were only three people in the house. It was the perfect time.

"Tonight's the night, Marco," Jean slurred drunkenly. "I'm definitely gonna ask her tonight."

Marco grinned back just as drunkenly, waving him on from his blanket nest on the floor behind their hosts' sofa. Jean took a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked, before about-facing and marching (staggering) over to the kitchen where Mikasa Ackerman was leaning against the wall, looking as cool and as beautiful as ever. She was gazing outside through the open sliding door, probably keeping an eye on her brother and Armin, and Jean hated to interrupt her life's mission, he really did, but…

"Mikasa!" Jean had never taken such a demanding tone with the intimidating girl before. He wouldn't ever do it again, because the look she gave him was terrifying.

"Kirchstein." Mikasa's head tilted slightly to the left, her lovely dark hair swaying with the motion. "What is it?"

Jean took a deep breath, knowing that if he couldn't ask now, even with all his drunken bravado, he wouldn't ever be able to. "I was wondering, Mikasa – _whydon'tyoulikeme?_ "

He spat it out as fast as he could, hoping she had understood. Standing before her, shifting from foot to foot, Jean felt like a school kid again. He hadn't been this nervous to talk to Mikasa in years; but now, with her fathomless black eyes trained on him, Jean felt his stomach flip.

(The alcohol probably wasn't helping).

"I love you, Kirchstein."

Wh- huh?

Something snapped in his brain when he heard that, Jean would swear it. Mikasa was staring at him, one corner of her mouth ticked up in amusement.

"I'm only saying this because you asked, you know. And you won't hear me say it again. I do love you, you and Bodt both. You're good friends. But I don't like either of you."

The mental whiplash was giving Jean a headache (again, not helped by the copious amounts of alcohol in his system). Once he comprehended the last bit though, he flinched back, stung.

It was ridiculous; he had come over to ask specifically about that, hadn't he? But to actually hear one of the people he admired most in the world say that she didn't like him… Jean rubbed a hand over his heart, as though that would lessen the sting. And _Marco?_ Why on earth would anybody not like Marco? He was the sweetest, kindest, most amazing guy on the planet. Mikasa throwing him in wasn't something Jean would have ever anticipated.

"But _why?_ " He asked, fighting his bleary vision to stay focussed on her face. "We- we're friends, but you don't like us? What did we do?"

Even to Jean's intoxicated self his questions sounded plaintive.

Mikasa turned her head to look outside, where the sound of Eren Jaeger's crowing was distinctive even amongst their rowdy friends. She turned back to Jean, who felt something leaden form in his stomach at the hard look in her eyes.

"Because, Kirchstein. You make my brother a liar."

* * *

 **AN: A lil something! Pretty sure chapters will all be drabble length like this, or at least not much more than 1000 words. Modern AU, obviously. I might explain my AU ideas, might not. They're not all that important, to be honest. Thoughts always welcome!**

 **\- Kelly**


	2. Chapter 2

"What does she _mean_ , we make Eren a liar?"

Jean was stressed.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure, the conversation he'd had with Mikasa the previous night was cemented in his brain even despite Jean's best efforts to drown himself via shots. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he had staggered away from Mikasa's piercing black gaze feeling vaguely guilty – hence the copious amounts of vodka shots he had practically inhaled, safely snuggled up with Marco in his blanket nest.

Marco himself had been very confused, and very drunkenly drowsy, so he'd been well asleep by the time Jean got to the point where the taller man generally cut him off.

Honestly, it hadn't taken long for Jean to join his boyfriend in la-la-land after that. It'd been pure determination on Jean's end to get beyond smashed that had him downing as many shots as he had before succumbing to sleep.

And now, the next evening, after the worst of the hangover was done with and Jean only felt a little seedy instead of deathly, he was trying to figure out what the hell Mikasa's cryptic little comment was supposed to mean. He was pacing erratically in he and Marco's bedroom, stalking back and forth at the end of their king size bed.

"I'm not sure, babe. Is- could it be something you and Eren fought about, back in high school?" Marco's sweet freckled face was twisted a little in concern. He'd been hurt, when Jean told him what Mikasa said about not liking either of them. It'd pissed Jean off, honestly. How could Mikasa say something like that about the literal incarnation of human kindness? Marco couldn't have done anything to deserve being dragged into whatever the fuck she thought Jean had done to Eren.

His boyfriend hadn't been surprised though.

When questioned, Marco had just shrugged. "She feels distant sometimes, you know?"

And that was that.

Jean wracked his brain for anything that Eren could have held onto for all this time; they'd graduated high school six years ago, so if there was something, it had to be big.

But there was nothing. They'd squabbled over a million minor things, and come to blows over several important ones, but Jean was one-hundred per-cent sure that they'd never fought over anything so huge as to warrant Mikasa's words. Besides…

" _Eren doesn't lie!"_ Jean gripped at his hair, pulling frustratedly. " _I don't get it!"_

"Hey, hey," Marco got up from his place at the end of the bed, gently tugging Jean's hands away from his head. "Don't hurt yourself. We'll figure it out together, alright?"

Jean stared up into his boyfriend's warm eyes, and felt the familiar melting sensation in his chest that Marco had always evoked. They'd been together for eight years now, yet Marco still gave Jean new reasons to love him every day. He smiled up at the slightly taller man.

"Okay. Sorry babe, I'm just- I'm so confused."

Marco slipped his arms around Jean's waist, drawing him close and pressing their foreheads together.

"I am too," he admitted. "We all know how upfront Eren is. And I'm worried about what we could have done that would make someone we know to be incredibly truthful into a liar. But we're not going to figure anything out by stressing like this. Let's try asking Mikasa to clarify tomorrow, yeah?"

Jean snorted, pressing a short kiss to Marco's lips. "Like that'll work."

Marco shrugged, smiling adorably. "It's a start."


	3. Chapter 3

"Aw, come on, Mikasa, can't you just give us something else to go on?"

Jean was about ready to get down on his knees and beg. He and Marco had decided that asking her out for lunch was the best way to go; there was no doubt that Mikasa knew exactly what they wanted, but she also never turned down a free meal.

The three of them were sitting in a cute little café in central Stohess; it was light and airy, and a little on the expensive side (Jean was not too proud to admit that he'd chosen the place partially as a bribe; Mikasa loved their chicken sliders). Mikasa leaned back in her chair, coolly meeting Jean's gaze. She'd refused to answer any of their questions while they were eating, and now that they were just sipping on their drinks, Mikasa was still ignoring their pleading.

"It's not my place," she'd said more than once. "It's not my answer to give."

"I told you, Kirchstein," she replied now. Her black eyes were trained unwaveringly on Jean's. Beside them, Marco was biting his lip. "You asked me a question, and I answered it. If you want anything more, figure it out yourselves, or ask Eren."

Jean could not accurately verbalise how much he did not want to do that.

Luckily, Marco was there to do it for him.

"It's hard, Mikasa. You know how Jean and Eren are. There's no way that would go well." He stared beseechingly at her. "And even if I asked, Eren would just think that Jean forced me to."

Unfortunately, Marco was right. He and Eren had a surprisingly sweet friendship (that Jean had in no way, shape, or form, ever been jealous of), but whenever the three of them were together, it was Eren and Jean's natural reaction to butt heads. Poor Marco had been dragged into their shit more times than any of them could count.

Mikasa shrugged. "That's your problem. I guess you'll just have to figure it out."

The background bustle of the café swelled then, and Mikasa glanced down at her watch. "I've got to go, I've got a shift this afternoon." She drained the last of her green tea and stood, staring stoically down at them. "Eren would probably answer if you asked him, you know. It's you two who need to be prepared to hear it."

And off she went, as if she hadn't just dropped another unfathomable statement like a bomb.

Jean slapped a hand over his face, groaning loudly.

Marco giggled. "I see what you mean, babe. Cryptic-Mikasa is rather frustrating, isn't she?"

"What is _happening_?" Jean asked despairingly. "Eren's lying, Mikasa's gone all mysterious: has the world ended and we just didn't notice?"

Oh God, what if _Armin_ was the next one to go all weird? What would that even look like?

Jean leaned forward and took both of Marco's hands in his, staring beseechingly into warmly bemused brown eyes. "Marco, my love," he said solemnly. "Please promise me you won't talk to Armin until we figure out what is going on."

Of course, his wonderful boyfriend immediately understood where Jean was going with that.

"Oh my god, Jean!" Marco laughed. "I'm not promising that! I'm supposed to be hanging out with him and Historia next weekend, so if you think he might be the next one to undergo a personality transplant, you'd better talk to Eren before then."

Never mind. Not-wonderful boyfriend (always-wonderful boyfriend).

Jean wondered mournfully if talking to Eren on Friday would save Marco from any Armin-weirdness on Saturday.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oi, Eren, Mikasa  
said something  
weird and I don't  
get it_

 _Explain_

 _wtf horse face  
do u think im  
psychic ur gonna  
have to explain a  
little more than  
that_

 _later tho im w  
reiner and them  
atm ;) _

Jean refused to admit that he was relieved.

Tossing his phone to the other side of the couch so he didn't have to look at it, Jean stretched until he felt that satisfying pop in his shoulders.

It was the Thursday after he and Marco had taken Mikasa out for lunch, and Jean was a little embarrassed by the fact that he was actually proud of himself for not leaving it until Friday. Sure, his attempt hadn't got him anywhere, and barely counted as an attempt in the first place, but it was _something_. Eren now knew that Jean wanted to talk with him, therefore, the ball was in his court. Jean was content to wait until Eren got back to him.

At this point, Marco would just have to deal with whatever weirdness Armin might throw his way.

Jean wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a frozen pizza to chuck in the oven. Eren's second text lingered in his mind, giving Jean the same weird feeling that it always had. _'I'm with Reiner and them at the moment'._

'And them' being Bertholdt and Annie.

The three of them, Reiner, Bert, and Annie, were a throuple, which was fine. Jean hadn't ever had any kind of problem with that, or polyamory in general. Except then Eren joined them, sorta, and that prickled at Jean like nothing else. He wasn't sure why. Annie had some kinda thing going on with Armin outside of her relationship with Reiner and Bert (and Eren), which made Jean feel exactly zero things.

So why did Eren's involvement bother him so much?

He set the timer for his pizza and collapsed back onto the sofa to wait, still mulling over his thoughts. Three hours later, with the pizza demolished and still no reply from Eren, Jean was starting to rethink his decision. He wasn't sure he had the patience to wait for his friend to remember that Jean had even asked a question.

"Babe? You alright?"

"Wah!"

Jean, who had been spent the majority of his day on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, suddenly found himself with a vision full of freckles. He launched himself up with an embarrassingly squeaky shout.

Marco, the freckled vision in question, stepped back before they knocked foreheads, chuckling. "Little lost in thought there, Jeanbo?"

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Jean's temple. Jean smiled, turning his head to catch Marco's lips in a proper kiss.

"Welcome home," he murmured, playfully rubbing their noses together. "I didn't know you were working on becoming a ninja in your spare time."

Marco straightened up, laughing. "Shows how much you know. Mikasa taught me her ways years ago."

Terrifyingly enough, Jean wasn't sure if he was joking. It was entirely plausible that he _wasn't_.

"On the subject of Mikasa," Jean started tentatively, deciding he didn't want to know. "I text Eren today."

"Oh? How did it go?"

Marco's interested (and slightly hopeful) reply made Jean's face burn with embarrassment.

"It, uh. It didn't."

He meekly opened his texts and passed the phone up for Marco to read. The instant sigh-snort that his boyfriend let out only made his blush worse.

"Jean, baby-"

"I know!" Jean cut him off, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "It's just so awkward! I don't know how to start!"

"Should we do it together, then?" Marco suggested, gently taking hold of Jean's hands. "And just make sure that he knows it's important to both of us."

" _Please."_

Marco laughed. "Okay. When he gets back to you, tell him we want to talk. Maybe he can come over this weekend if he's not busy."

Jean nodded, determined. Together, they would get to the bottom of this.


	5. Chapter 5

Eren ended up texting Jean back just before noon the next day.

Jean wouldn't say that he _panicked_ , exactly. He'd just been surprised by the sudden notification is all, and accidentally thrown his phone into his laughing boyfriend's face.

Luckily, Marco was an angel and only busted his gut cracking up over Jean's idiocy for ten minutes before taking mercy on him. He was also the one to text Eren an invitation to theirs for dinner that night; nothing fancy, just take-out because they wanted to talk to him about something. Sometimes Jean really admired Marco and his steadiness. Jean couldn't act casual to save himself.

He spent the entirety of that afternoon working himself up into a frenzy and pretending that he wasn't; Jean deep cleaned both the kitchen and the bathroom, mopped the entire apartment, and was halfway through wiping down the windows before Marco finally got fed up with his nervous energy and dragged him down into their bed, making love to him so thoroughly that Jean forgot everything but his boyfriend's name.

He was much more relaxed by the time Eren showed up.

"Hey, guys!"

Eren let himself in, as always. His quick _'on my way up'_ text was one he had sent a million times before, and it never failed to make Jean smile.

"Smells good in here! Indian?"

Jean, in the kitchen re-plating their dinner, found himself far less nervous than he'd thought he would be. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was the normality of the situation – maybe Jean was just an idiot. He laughed while Eren ribbed him about 'always making more dishes for yourselves', as though he didn't help them every damn time, ignoring Marco's protests that he was a guest. Marco playfully snapped a tea towel at the two of them when they started bickering, and Eren snapped one right back, starting a minor war.

It was fun.

In fact, it was so fun and normal that by the time dinner was over and the dishes done, Jean's guard was completely down. The three men lounged lazily in the living room; Jean laying back against Marco's chest, in between his legs, and Eren sat sideways in an armchair with his legs tossed over the arm. A comfortable silence had settled over them, one that Jean was thoroughly enjoying. Quiet time in their friend group was a rarity, and quiet time with _Eren_ even more so. After their rocky beginnings, Jean always felt a little privileged when Eren allowed himself to chill down around him. He wondered if Eren felt the same.

"So," Eren's head lolled to the side and he pinned them with his intense green gaze. "What'd Mikasa say that's got you guys all worked up, huh?"

Jean stiffened and felt Marco do the same behind him. He knew they were having the same thought – how had neither of them even stopped to consider the fact that Mikasa had probably already told her beloved brother everything?

"You already know." Jean said it, pointed and sure. Sure, he might've told Eren in that first text that he was bothered by something Mikasa had said, but he knew in his gut that Eren'd known the whole time.

Mikasa had never kept a secret from Eren in her life. Of course she'd gone right home and confessed to him what she had let slip. It was pure idiocy on Jean and Marco's part that they had forgotten that particular law of the universe.

Eren's mouth quirked up at the sides. "Yeah."

Indignation welled up in Jean's chest like a flood. He'd been worrying his fucking ass off over this for days, and all the while, Eren had been sitting back, waiting like an absolute asshole.

" _And_?" He demanded. "You gonna explain or what?"

Eren sighed. He rolled his head back and draped an arm over his face. "Yeah, I'll explain. It's only been what, eight years?"

"What?!"

Marco blurted it out at the same time as Jean, and the hurt in his voice raised Jean's feelings from indignation to straight up _pissed_.

It didn't last long.

"Uh, yeah, sorry." Eren was still as stone where he lay. His voice was as flat as Jean had ever heard it. "It's just a little hard to tell you that I've kinda been in love with you both since we were sixteen."


	6. Chapter 6

The ensuing silence was palpable.

Jean felt frozen. His last breath was stuck in his throat, his eyes fixed on Eren's prone form. Even his brain had stalled; only ten words stood out from the white noise that had washed everything else out.

' _I'm in love with you both.'_

' _Since we were sixteen.'_

They repeated themselves, again and again in a never ending loop, growing louder and louder every time. It wasn't until Marco let escape a wounded noise full of hurt and confusion that Jean managed to pull himself out the spiral.

And then he kinda exploded.

"What. The fuck. What the _fuck,_ Eren?!" Jean shot to his feet and immediately set to pacing. Raw energy was surging through his veins and he didn't know what to do with it; he felt jittery, almost the way he did when he was nervous, except he'd spent the whole fuckin' day being nervous, and now he was _furious_.

Eren still had his head tipped back, was still covering his eyes with his arm. Jean didn't think he'd moved a single muscle since he'd dropped his little bomb.

It was infuriating.

It wasn't _Eren_.

Jean wanted to shake him, wanted to drag him up so that they could yell and scream into each others' faces the way they always had. Wanted Marco to break in like he did every other time and force them to either get over it or talk it out 'like civilised people'.

He wanted Eren to _look_ at them.

"Jean. Jean, baby, please calm down." Marco reached out, fingers brushing against Jean's wrist as he stalked past. There was something almost like panic woven into his words, and it was strange enough that it penetrated the fog permeating Jean's brain.

Marco rarely panicked. Or at least, not externally. He generally kept it inside, taking the time to logic himself into a calmer state of mind. If he wasn't doing so now, it was probably urgent.

Jean slowed to a halt. He closed his eyes, shoving a hand into his hair, gripping it as he drew in one, two, three deep breaths. Once he felt he'd calmed down enough that he could think mostly rationally, he opened his eyes and reached out to grip Marco's hand.

Their fingers twined together, both men squeezing like their lives depended on it.

Eren still hadn't made a sound.

A small tug from Marco brought Jean back to the sofa. He collapsed back, pressing himself right up against Marco's side, suddenly dizzy with the knowledge that _Eren frickin Jaeger_ had feelings for him. Them. Both of them. For almost a decade.

 _Eren_.

The guy that Jean punched in the face on a weekly basis for literally three years straight (and then got punched by in return). The guy who used to make fun of Jean for his gigantic raging crush on Mikasa, and yet still didn't realise that part of the reason Jean used to hate him was because he'd been jealous of their close relationship. The guy who Jean could now not only call his biggest rival, but also his best friend?

"Baby." Marco's sudden murmur was directly in his ear. "Look at him. He's shaking."

What?

Taking advantage of the fact that Eren continued to lay stock-still with his eyes covered, Jean squinted hard in his direction.

"Oh, shit."

He breathed the words on his next exhale, barely any sound to them. It took two seconds for all of Jean's anger to drain away; he felt like an asshole for even feeling it in the first place. Because Marco was right.

There was a fine tremble to Eren's body, just barely visible, and it was giving Jean all kinds of feelings. He'd never seen his friend so vulnerable. The implication that Eren was _afraid_ , of them, of their reactions… it was totally wrong. That was something that had _never_ been part of their relationship, rocky though it could be. Eren Jaeger feared nothing, much less Jean Kirchstein and Marco Bodt.

With fifty levels of confusion swimming in his gut, Jean made a decision.

"Eren," he said, gripping Marco's hand with white fists. "Eren, it's okay. Please just look at us."

Marco hummed an agreement, a sad but somehow still comforting sound.

Seconds ticked by in weighty silence – and then there was a shift. Bright green eyes blinked over at them, full of so much uncertainty and guilt that Jean had to suck in a breath. He didn't know what to say now, he realised, panic building. He hadn't planned this far ahead-

"We don't hate you."

Marco's sudden statement caused both Jean and Eren's eyes to widen. Flicking a glance over at his boyfriend, Jean's racing heart couldn't help but calm when he saw the reassuring smile on his face.

"I promise, Eren. We couldn't ever hate you. I know it's hard, but please. Talk to us."


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm sorry, Eren."

Eren Yeager, twenty-six year old incurable adrenaline junkie, paused on the platform he'd just reached. Forty feet above the earth, perched in a gently swaying tree and feeling the breeze ruffle through his hair, Eren felt just as comfortable as he would have on the ground.

He looked back at his sister, Mikasa, where she was standing perfectly balanced on the wire behind him. Every now and again, Eren couldn't help but think that she didn't even need her harness. Her cat-like balance and reflexes were legendary around _Wings of Adrenaline_ , the adventure company where they worked together with their best friend, Armin. She'd brought him out on the ropes course this morning, insisting that she had something important to tell him.

From where Eren was standing, it was easy to see the remorse in her black eyes.

"For what?"

It was important to take Mikasa seriously when she looked like that, Eren knew. Even if it turned out to be something so miniscule that it didn't even warrant a mention let alone an actual apology, he had to hear her out and accept it anyway. It'd been like that since they were little.

She bit her lip, looking a little more anxious than usual. And _that_ , from Mikasa, was the equivalent of somebody else bawling their eyes out.

"Seriously, Mikasa, what is it?"

Concerned now, Eren reached out, intending to take her hand. And for the first time in their entire lives, Mikasa stepped back from his touch.

That- hurt. Like, a _lot_.

It must've shown on his face too, because Mikasa practically leaped the rest of the way onto the platform so that she could throw her arms around him. Eren returned the embrace, feeling the desperate strength that she was holding him with and doing his best to equal it.

"I'm sorry, Eren," it was a murmur in his ear, almost too quiet to make out. "I told Kirchstein."

The whole world froze.

"Y-you-" His voice cracked. He couldn't finish the sentence, could hardly even process the _thought._ It was like his brain had stalled. The only thing that Eren was conscious of thinking was _ImnotreadyImnotreadyImnotREADY-!_

Mikasa, unbelievably, squeezed him tighter. "I'm so, so sorry."

She sounded so raw that it jogged Eren out of his panic, just a little.

He stood there in his sister's arms, the two of them clutching at each other like they hadn't done since they were children.

"What happened?" He asked eventually.

The siblings let go of each other, continuing along the ropes course while Mikasa got her thoughts together.

"It was at Connie and Sasha's party on Saturday night," Mikasa started. "Kirchstein was drunk, I was drunk… I didn't even think, Eren. Kirschstein asked me why I don't like him, and I was so surprised that I accidentally told him the truth."

"Oh my god."

Despite himself, Eren snorted. Mikasa didn't drink often, so when she did, it didn't take much for her to get even a little tipsy. Last weekend, she'd been way more wasted than she looked, and Eren and Armin had had a great time making her giggle _(giggle!)_ in the uber home.

He couldn't blame her for spilling when she was in that state; Kirchstein had caught her at the worst (or best, depending on your point of view) time.

Honestly, Eren was more surprised that Jean had had the guts to ask Mikasa such a thing in the first place. His crush on her may have faded (thank _fuck_ , before Eren's feelings for the guy had come to fruition; that whole situation would have just been fucked up), but a tiny bit of awe had always remained. Even drunk, it was a miracle that he'd worked up the courage to confront her.

' _Why don't you like me?'_

The amusement was doing a great job at battling Eren's initial panic down. He leapt from one narrow board to another, trying to imagine Jean drunkenly squaring up to his sister.

It was adorable.

And hilarious, but mostly adorable.

'Why don't you like me', seriously? What the fuck, Kirschstein. Who even asked people that?

And _Mikasa_.

Sometimes, Eren could hardly even fathom how much she loved him. Like, he would kill and die for her, would burn the world down if she asked it of him, and she would _definitely_ do the same, but she was always so _intense_ about it. Holding a grudge against two of their closest friends because Eren had unrequited feelings for them was totally unreasonable.

Arriving at the next tree platform, Eren sighed. His frantic heartbeat had calmed some, but the bottom of his stomach was still nowhere to be found.

He hadn't ever wanted to tell Jean and Marco about his feelings. They were so happy together, so stupidly in love; what chance did Eren have? Telling them would only ruin the friendship they had built. Having the two of them look at him with pity, or guilt- absolutely not. Better to deal with it on his own until the feelings went away naturally.

(Well, as 'on his own' as the rest of his friends would let him; literally every single one of them knew. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie had even gone as far as inviting him into their arrangement when they saw the struggle that Eren was going through trying to date other people. The companionship, the understanding, and honestly, the sex, had been lifesaving these past few years. Eren would never be able to repay them for what they'd given him).

"I'm really sorry, Eren." Mikasa sounded absolutely miserable. "I just- I hate how small they make you. You've been living with this lie for so _long_. All I want is for you to be happy."

As terrified as he was, being angry with her still wasn't an option.

Eren reached a hand out as soon as she'd secured herself on the platform. "I know," he said, gripping her fingers tight. "I know. Just tell me exactly what you said, and exactly how he reacted."

Nausea rolled through him in insistent waves. Eren wasn't sure he even wanted to know; he could just run away and pretend none of this ever happened, go right back to Shiganshina, and live the rest of his life hiding out in his parent's basement. Carla surely wouldn't turn him away.

Mikasa nodded. "Kirchstein came up to me, asked me why I didn't like him. I actually said that I don't like him _or_ Bodt-"

"Oh my _god,_ Mikasa."

"Because they make my brother a liar."

"What."

"And then Kirchstein just turned around, looking like I'd kicked his puppy, and went back to Bodt. That was when I came outside to find you, I think."

"Mikasa, what?"

Eren couldn't believe it.

His sister blinked at him. "That's everything, Eren."

" _You didn't tell him anything!"_

Holy shit. Eren slumped against the tree trunk, the weight of his relief slamming him back like gravity. Sweet, sweet, oxygen filled his lungs and cleared his head as he sucked in first one deep breath, then another, and another. Eren hadn't even realised how shallowly he had been breathing this entire time; his anxiety had had a literal chokehold on him.

Mikasa was still frowning though. "He's not going to let that go, Eren. You know how Kirchstein is."

He really did.

In all the years they'd known each other, Eren had both loved and hated Jean's tenacity. He could never let a damn thing go, whether an argument or a mystery, and he always had to know what was going on in everybody's lives.

Normally, Eren found it endearing. Jean and Marco both remembered things about people that others wouldn't bother with, they knew the ins and outs of their friends' lives, the little details that showed how much they cared.

They were also nosy bastards.

Heaving a sigh, Eren straightened up. "I'm going to have to tell them, aren't I."

It was not a question.

Eren stepped out onto the next part of the course, a long stretch of wire with nothing to hold onto, and just his carabiner clipped to the wire above for safety. It felt vaguely symbolic of his current situation.

That quick rush of relief had quickly turned sour in his mouth.

"I am so, _so_ , sorry, Eren." Mikasa said behind him. "I don't know if you could ever forgive me."

Well that was just ridiculous.

"Of course I forgive you," Eren tossed over his shoulder. He rolled his eyes. "There's nothing to forgive. It's been almost a decade; I think my time is just up."


End file.
